••• Monday, October 21st, 20XX •••

I think they're scared of me. Sam and Tucker. Afraid of saying the wrong thing, setting me off. And maybe… maybe they should be scared. Even I don't know how I'd react. I'd probably just pull the mask back on, the one I've worn for so long it feels like a part of me. But it's exhausting. It's all boiling up inside, and I know one day it'll explode, and I'll finally have to face everything I've kept hidden. And maybe… maybe even I'd be afraid of what I see.

I don't want to hurt the people I care about most. Maybe that's my real nature, lurking beneath the surface—even if I'd do anything to keep it locked away.

I want people to like me, so the mask goes back on. I smile, but it's hollow, just another lie. Deep down, I know who I am. And it feels so… wrong. Everything about it feels wrong. But it's okay… no, it's not okay. Stop arguing with yourself.

Dash and Kwan, and the other A-listers. I hate people who talk behind my back. They were gossiping about the party last weekend. Why not just say it to my face? Now that's childish. Afraid of a reaction you won't be able to handle? Or maybe you feel a bit guilty, huh?

But honestly, it hurts deep down. Blood boiling, adrenaline racing through my veins… my whole body tensing into clenched fists, nails digging into my palms just to hold myself back—to filter it all through the mask, again. Oh, fuck. Why? It wouldn't be the first time that side of me—the dark side—comes out.

"Count to ten," they say. As if that would work, as if it could cut through the chaos drilling into my head. Please. Get real—I can't do that. Just let me be…

People really did make me this way… still seeing me as some teenage punk. Yeah, maybe I act like that sometimes. But do I care? No. That's what the mask is for, after all. I'll never grow up, so all of you, go to hell! I'd love to—no. Wrong. So wrong, again. What's wrong with me?

But you already know the answer, don't you, Fenton?

••• Tuesday, October 22nd, 20XX •••

He slipped into my room again last night, unseen at first, just a quiet presence lingering in the shadows. And then he appeared, as if summoned by some silent call. I didn't know why he'd come, but there was this softness in his green eyes, a warmth that wrapped around me even before he reached out. He was here to comfort me.

I couldn't hold back. I kissed him, letting all the longing and missing him pour out. He pulled me gently onto the bed, his arms wrapping around me as he pressed his lips to my neck, each kiss igniting something deep within. I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into the feeling, savoring the quiet, unspoken closeness between us.

Without thinking, I shifted, leaning forward until I was on top of him, his hands resting at my waist, steady and cold. He looked up at me, that familiar glimmer in his eyes, and I knew he was just as lost in this moment as I was. And though he was smiling, I realized I loved it even more, feeling completely myself in his arms.

••• Wednesday, October 23rd, 20XX •••

Yesterday, I tried talking to Jazz again. Before I even got a word out, she told me I should talk to the school counselor. Because she can't help me? Because she doesn't know what to do with me anymore? I wanted so badly to tell her everything, to lay it all out in the open. But it felt like, for the first time, she didn't want to hear me. Not like she used to. Maybe I'm not her little brother anymore. Maybe I'm just someone she expects to grow up already, now that I'm seventeen.

It hurt. It really did. It felt like she didn't want to talk to me. But I tried. And when I finally opened up, the first thing she said was that I need to get my grades up, and I shouldn't think about him. That's all that matters now? Not how I'm feeling, not the confusion that's eating me alive? What's happened to her?

Today, I feel… hollow. I woke up with this weird weight in my stomach, like something heavy is dropping inside me, dragging me down. There's this ache, this burning behind my eyes, and it feels like tears I can't let go of. I needed coffee this morning, and maybe it sounds stupid, but that coffee was the only thing that made sense.

••• Thursday, October 24th, 20XX •••

Why is he lying to me?

I asked him where he slept when he showed up last night. He told me he didn't sleep—that he doesn't need to. But that's a load of crap, isn't it? I walked into my room, and the sheets were all wrong, like someone had been there. Why would he lie to me about that? Or is it because he finally misses me, too? As if. Who am I kidding?

Why the hell do I even care where he sleeps? When I'm at school, or out of the house—why lie about something so small, so… meaningless? God, who even cares? No one. Except, apparently, me.

This is our story, huh? Some vicious circle. I'm here, sleeping in my bed, and he's out there, drifting through the night. It's pathetic. So, so messed up.

Just… fuck off.

And then, right as I was writing this, he flew in through the window. He said he wanted to sleep next to me. So he did.

•••